#hoc

Madrid, Spain — November 2025

"You are miles away." Soledad states softly from her recliner.

Alexia jolts back to attention, the fridge open and cool air escaping. Glancing down at the carton of yogurt in her hand, the catalana quickly places it on the shelf and closes the appliance, her hands reaching into the bag to unload the rest of the groceries she picked up on her way. "Sorry," she murmurs. "Just thinking."

"Come sit," Jenni's mother directs. "You know, Alexia, you don't have to visit every week. I know you are extremely busy."

Frowning, the footballer shakes her head. "I want to visit. I—"

"Why haven't you told Jenni you've started finding your way to Madrid every off day you have?" Soledad asks.

"I just…" Alexia trails off quietly. "I'm not doing it to earn points" she states, "or to get in her good graces—"

"I think you're already in those," Jenni's mother jokes with a grin before it fades into a sigh, exhaustion tracking across her face.

"I don't want her, or you," the catalana murmurs softly, a hand reaching out to squeeze the older madrileña's where it rests on the recliner arm, "to think I'm here for some ulterior motive. I missed you for years; I want to see you; I want to be here because I love you. I know Jenni would give anything to be here in my place. I don't want to add to the ache in her chest that I can visit every day off while she's left waiting for the season to end."

"I'm glad you came, cariño," Soledad states softly. "I missed you too. Now what had you frowning so deeply into the fridge?"

"A couple things," Alexia mutters. "Rafa told me that latest test results are getting worse. You spoke with the cardiologist about them?"

The matriarch grumbles, "that boy blabs all my secrets."

"This isn't one to keep from me," the footballer states with a frown. "I called the English doctor. He said based on the latest, he wants to move forward with surgery. Three days from now," the catalana emphasizes.

"That is soon," Soledad responds, eyebrows raising.

"He has an opening. I told him we'd take it," Alexia replies evenly.

The older woman finally nods in consent. "Okay, cariño. Surgery on the 24th. Here? Or do I need to make my way to rainy England?"

"We play Levante the day before, but I'm flying here right after. The doctor's scheduler said he was getting surgery approval at one of the nearby private hospitals here; you won't need to travel. I'll send Rafa all the details later today. And I'll tell Jenni—"

"Nothing," Soledad states firmly.

Alexia's face turns stricken. "What?" She asks helplessly. "Soledad! She should know you're having surgery!"

"She has her championship match the day before. I know she would drop everything to make it here before the surgery. But she should stay there and play. It's been the one goal she's held to throughout all the chaos, Alexia. The one goal that has kept her sane and focused through the Federation lawsuit and the pain of realizing coming back to Spain wasn't safe. And I am not going to let her abandon that goal right when she's about to complete it. I will be fine. I will have the surgery and be recovering when she gets here."

"You're her mama," Alexia argues. "You cannot keep her in the dark!"

"It's my choice," Soledad states firmly.

"You can't ask me to lie to her," the catalana whispers, voice breaking.

The older madrileña replies, "Jenni needs to see this goal to completion, Alexia. It's what makes all the hurt and pain and suffering she's been through amount to something deeper, something she can look back on these past years in Mexico at with pride instead of her whole time there being shrouding with pain and having to piece herself back together twice."

Alexia winces, eyes closing in regret because while Soledad did not come out and lay blame at her feet, the catalana knows she is responsible for the first breakage and Jenni's consequent move out of the country.

Silence weighs down the air, landing like a lead weight on the footballer's chest.

Does she respect Soledad's wish?

Does she not mention this to Jenni?

Despite all her downfalls, that is the one thread of decency Alexia can tie herself to in the rolling sea of all her past mistakes: she has never once lied to Jenni. And the idea of starting to now, just when they've started to truly rebuild trust between them, has the midfielder's stomach clenching painfully in distress.

"You said a couple things," Soledad states some time later, breaking the silence.

"What?" Alexia asks, confused as she struggles to climb her way back to the present.

"You said 'a couple things' were weighing on you. Me and my heart issues make one. What is the other?"

Alexia sits down heavily on the floral couch. Her hand caresses a golden flower, smiling at the many fond memories made on this couch and in this apartment with Jenni and her family.

"Cariño," Soledad murmurs, "talk to me. I can see something is causing you distress."

"If Jenni had kept a big secret from you for a long time, would you hate her for it?"

"I could never hate my girl," the older woman states. "And your mama could never hate you. She lives for you and your sister."

Alexia's eyes flick up at that, slightly watery. "She might. I have kept it a secret for so long. And it is not a kind one."

"For you? Or for whoever you have kept the secret for?"

The catalana jolts at that. "How do you know it isn't a secret I made?"

Soledad smiles softly. "Alexia, if I know anything about you, it is that you take on the weight of the world to protect those you love. You're worried about telling your mami, hmm? Knowing how tightly knit your family is I can guess it's something about another family member that has you nervous to tarnish their reputation, hmm?"

Alexia nods. "Yes," she whispers.

"Oh, cariño," Jenni's mother soothes, "That sounds like an exceptionally heavy burden. And no mama, especially no yours, would ever want you to carry that. If there is something she should know, and from the tone of your voice this is something that has impacted your life for long enough, you should share it with her."

Alexia sighs heavily.

"And, honestly, my girl, she might not be as surprised as you think."

The catalana's head pops up. "Did she say something to you?"

"We talk," Soledad states, "I don't know if we have talked about whatever this secret of yours is, but I know your mother fairly well at this point. And we love the same, Ale. Which means we love wholly and fiercely for our people, but we are not blind to the faults of men," the older madrileña adds with a pointed look.

The midfielder's eyes widen as Jenni's mama steps closer to the truth than anyone before.

"Tell her, Alexia. She wants to be fully in your life, not just in the pretty corner you doctor up for her to visit. It's a hard balance, you know," Soledad continues, "to proudly let your babies find their own way in the world but sit back and pray they allow you stick around as more than furniture doting their lives just on the holidays."

"Mama isn't—" Alexia starts to defend.

"Have you shared the hard bits, Alexia? Have you opened up about what's weighing you down, what makes you sag into your seat at the end of the day when the cameras turn off and the club's demands go quiet?"

"No," Alexia whispers. "I don't want to burden her."

"She is already burdened. Eli just hasn't shown it to you. Mamas know our children, better than just about anyone. We have watched you grow up and struggle and find your footing too many times to count. She knows there are things bothering you that you aren't sharing. But she is respecting your decision to keep it to yourself, for now. Tell her, mi sol. It will lighten the weight for the both of you."

Alexia settles back into the couch that smells like home and Jenni and warmth. It's like her Mama's couch, one of the places she can just be Alexia without any other expectations.

The catalana settles into her thoughts, mind contemplating all she just spoke about with Soledad.

Everything feels like it is moving just a touch too fast to wrap her hands around properly. It is a frightening feeling, like the train is pulling away from her and she's losing all her control to stop it.

Alexia has lived within the bounds of her control for years, finding comfort in it for the most part.

Only one person has ever had the ability to talk her into willingly loosening her hold.

Snorting to herself, the midfielder supposes it should not surprise her that Jenni had to have learned it from someone.

Soledad's methods are much different from her daughter's, but both have the ability to leave the catalana feeling a little raw around the edges but also intensely seen.

For someone who has spent so much of her life in the spotlight while actively hiding everything but the carefully constructed persona she wears as a shield, having someone strip you down so quickly, so completely, is both terrifying and liberating.

It has been a specialty of Jenni's since the very beginning of their relationship.

---------------------------

Barcelona, Spain — November 2014

It has been exactly three weeks since that first night spent wrapped around each other.

They have fallen into a rhythm that would be frightening to Alexia if it happened with anyone else besides Jenni. While they have moved fast since full intimacy was introduced into their relationship. But that should come as no surprise. They were connecting on a deeper level than Alexia has experienced in any of her past relationships before they even had their first date.

Their connection has Alexia opening up about things she has long kept locked inside. And it has her softening in ways she didn't know she would ever desire.

Deferring to Jenni in the bedroom is one such way.

The catalana always took the lead in her past relationships, quiet by determined.

But Jenni flips her onto her back once, control firmly in the madrileña's hand, and all Alexia can think about from that point forward is how freeing it felt to let her take the lead.

Their rhythm includes spending any spare night together that they can manage between training, Alexia's second job, and traveling for matches. Those nights find them either in Jenni's double bed in her tiny apartment or in Alexia's childhood bedroom, the walls still the soft purple of adolescence that father had painted years ago on her thirteenth birthday.

A rare weekend off finds them hunkered down in Jenni's apartment, her roommate absent due to a trip back home to visit family before the last stretch of games prior to the holiday break.

In a different timeline, Jenni herself would have probably ventured home to Madrid. But when Alexia shared that she didn't have any shifts at the market the entire weekend, the madrileña told her mama that she would see her after their last match in mid-December, eager to have multiple uninterrupted days with her girlfriend for the first time.

The striker didn't have sex in mind.

Well, she didn't have solely sex in mind.

She wanted to just live a day with Alexia from start to end without football or Alexia's job or other obligations separating them.

And she had a particular plan in mind for their evening.

The idea all came together the week previous when Alexia stumbles upon an old shoe box tucked back in her closet that decidedly does not contain shoes.

The catalana looks confused as she looked at the content, turning to face the bed where Jenni sits watching film.

"What's this?" the midfielder asks curiously.

Jenni almost chokes in response, eyes wide as she looks from the item to Alexia's face and back. "Um, a harness."

"For like rock climbing? I didn't realize you did that," the younger woman mumbles pensively.

The striker can't stop the snort of laughter that bubbles up. "No, Ale. Not for rock climbing. For you know…"

"Clearly I don't," Alexia replies with a creased frown. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a harness, Ale. For sex. Like with a strap."

"Oh," the catalana replies, a blush taking over her entire face as she throws it back into the shoe box and places the box on the dresser, putting a few feet between her and the item.

Jenni feels her faint embarrassment fade as she watches her girlfriend's eyes flick back to the box a couple times in quick succession. Alexia is clearly curious, even if she's attempting to ignore the item's existence.

"Have you…" Jenni trails off, letting the silence fill in the blank. "Ever?"

The younger woman wordlessly shakes her head, eyes locking on the striker. "Clearly you have?"

Jenni's head tilts in consideration. "Does that make you jealous?"

Alexia ponders the question, mulling it over in her head to deduce what she is feeling about it all. "No, I don't think so. I—you've used it a lot?" she asks slowly, face heating up with the smirk it pulls from Jenni.

"A bit," the madrileña replies. "Why? Do you want a demonstration?" she teases lightly, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stares her girlfriend down. The game film sits paused, laptop placed on the side table as Jenni spreads her body back across the bed in an image of casual dominance.

The catalana draws in a sharp breath through her nose, eyes widening.

Jenni's chest lurches at the desire she sees swirling there. "You have really never?" the madrileña asks, intrigued. They've talked a bit of their history with past partners. Jenni knows Alexia took a slightly different role with her two girlfriends before the madrileña.

Alexia snorts. "What? Keep one in my bedroom? The place where Alba frequently paws through my stuff? I never needed anything more than my fingers or my mouth anyways."

"Using a strap doesn't mean you don't still have fun with those," Jenni answers with a laugh. "But it is a different experience."

The color on the catalana's cheeks is a deep, rosy red. The madrileña can see her girlfriend swallow thickly, caught between shyness at the topic of sex being so brazenly discussed in the light of day and deep curiosity as her arousal builds the longer they linger on the topic.

"And you…like it?" the younger woman mumbles, gaze shifting to the wall as if eye contact is too much to handle at the moment.

"I like giving, yes," Jenni replies softly. "Come here," she directs, hands reaching for the midfielder.

Alexia goes willingly, even if her eyes stay focused on anywhere but her girlfriend's face.

The dark-haired woman pulls the catalana towards her lap, lifting her slightly until she's maneuvered into straddling the striker. Alexia gasps lightly, not expecting the move.

Jenni's fingers gently raise the midfielder's chin until she has no choice but for her amber irises to land on the madrileña's own.

"Would you want to try it sometime?" It is asked gently, without a smirk or teasing lilt. The older woman seems to inherently understand that Alexia needs space to safely consider the question, without the heat of embarrassment raising her defenses before she even gives it true consideration.

The catalana shifts in Jenni's lap as she rolls the idea around in her head, her hips moving involuntarily to relieve the ache of desire that has landed low in her stomach over the past few minutes. "Maybe," she murmurs.

The striker nods and pulls her girlfriend into an impromptu make out session, letting the conversation fizzle out and quietly tucking the box back away when they finally rise sometime later.

Over the course of the week, the madrileña couldn't help but catch how Alexia's gaze would sweep over to that top corner of her closet whenever she entered the bedroom, attention still grabbed.

And so Jenni does something about it.

Quietly.

Covertly.

She plans a night at home when that free weekend pops up. The older woman cooks—the apartment filled with the sound of sizzling garlic and tomatoes and her best attempt at cooking steak to date if she does say so herself.

After, when the night has shifted into the quiet, warm haze of an evening unwinding into the deeper hours, Jenni pulls Alexia towards her bedroom, the lights off and only the glow of the moon guiding the way.

Clothes come off slowly, reverently.

Jenni doesn't try to swallow down Alexia's soft moans as her first orgasm hits. There is no other person in the space to consider—not her roommate, not Alexia's family—it is just them and a night that is all theirs.

Alexia drops down, tongue already an expert at winding the striker up exceptionally well.

It is in the afterglow of the first round that Jenni approaches the topic again. "Ale?" she asks quietly.

"Hmmm?" the catalana murmurs, fingers dragging lightly down the striker's arm, tracing tattoos and letting her skin cool as the fan in the corner completes its circuit.

"You know that box you found earlier?"

She can feel Alexia still where she rests half on top of the madrileña.

Oh, the catalana knows exactly what she is referencing.

When the younger woman doesn't make a sound, Jenni continues speaking, giving her the cover of silence to consider the offer. "Would you want to give it a try?"

Alexia pushes up off Jenni's body, twisting so she's holding herself a few inches above the madrileña. Her eyes fix on the older woman's, understanding passing between them.

"Tonight?" Jenni asks softly for confirmation.

The catalana dips her head minutely, heart hammering in her chest.

Jenni pulls the midfielder back down on top of her, lips softly claiming as she rolls them over to the side before disengaging her mouth and walking purposefully towards the box in the closet.

The moonlight illuminates the tattoo inked down the madrileña's spine in a way that has Alexia's breath hitching at the vision.

Jenni is hers. And she is the striker's in return.

Alexia never could have imagined at the start of the year that she would end up here, in Jenni's life as her girlfriend, in Jenni's bed like it belongs to her too.

When the older woman turns around, it is with the infamous harness strapped into place while a modest, purple dildo bounces softly as she strides casually back over to the bed.

The catalana feels her pulse pounding in her ears, body an odd mix of arousal, anticipation, and fear.

She is not uncomfortable. Not with Jenni. She knows herself well enough to know this. But vulnerability still feels like weakness to her, especially in recent years.

Jenni has stripped away so many defenses of hers without even meaning to, but the idea of giving someone else this type of control over her body, literally opening herself up to Jenni, feels inherently wrong in a way that has her skin prickling.

Alexia has willed herself into moving forward after her father's death, carrying the responsibility and taking control of the family. It is an unusual dynamic for any young adult to suddenly be the one older family members defer to on decision-making and problem-solving.

But the madrileña—with her quietly perceptive eyes, her unguarded smile, and her steadfast presence that coats any situation in comfort for Alexia—strips all of that away.

She does not demand control.

Jenni just wordlessly unbuckles the restraints of the armor Alexia has fashioned around herself and silently sets it aside.

The woman does not seek to destroy it, but merely relocate it when they are alone.

It lightens the load constantly beating the midfielder down. These moments Jenni offers up help set aside Alexia's need for control. Her brain stops fighting, stops pushing onward despite the emotional toil. And for once she gets to breathe without the weight of anyone else being lifted up by her shoulders.

When the striker kneels on the bed, gaze locked with Alexia's so she can take a step back if at any point her girlfriend becomes uncomfortable with this new territory, the catalana knows she wants this.

She wants Jenni to take the reins and guide her through this new territory.

She wants Jenni to make her forget all about her many responsibilities.

She wants Jenni to quiet her head long enough to just exist in the silence instead of filling it with a chaotic rambling of internal dialogue and a never-ending checklist of things to be done.

"Okay?" the madrileña whispers. The air stills between them with the importance of the moment hanging in the middle. Something crackles to focus as Alexia's hands find Jenni's waist.

"Slow," she replies quietly.

"Of course," the older woman murmurs, lips dropping to kiss down the side of Alexia's neck as the younger woman moans into the touch. "You tell me what you need."

Sinking further into the mattress as the tension led in her limbs softens, Jenni follows, the strap wedging between their hips but ignored in favor of the madrileña building her girlfriend back up to a pliant and twitching mess.

It does not take long.

Not when Jenni seems to know the catalana's body even better than she does.

Alexia moans, hips pushing up as the need for more than groping and open-mouthed kisses grows more intense. "Inside," she gasps when teeth graze the pulse point on her neck.

Jenni pulls back slightly, eyes flicking down as her hand reaches to position the strap, gliding the head through the younger woman's wetness a few strokes before settling in at her opening and pausing.

The striker takes a deep breath, gaze raising to map the catalana's face as she pushes inside achingly slow.

Alexia's breath hitches, her chest rising as her head pushes back into the pillow. "Fuck," she pants, eyes snapping back to Jenni.

She is not a stranger to having fingers inside, but this intrusion is something else entirely. The stretch, the fullness, the depth. As Jenni comes to rest with the strap fully inserted, Alexia groans lightly.

"You okay, cariño?" the madrileña asks gently, shifting her body to be held up by one forearm as she brings her other hand up to brush a strand of hair out of Alexia's face.

"Yes," the younger woman instantly replies. She is. Truly.

This feeling is entirely new. But by no means is it unwelcome. The younger woman takes in a deep breath, body adjusting and taking stock of the feeling inside.

Then Jenni pulls out and thrusts back in slowly, gently, and Alexia's eyes roll back at the drag.

She whimpers.

Actually whimpers.

A blush rises up her chest at that utterly uncharacteristic reaction.

She knows she can be loud. Correction: she knows that Jenni somehow has found to make her loud when she naturally is quite quiet in bed, especially with still living at home. The older woman throws all that out the window with one or two strategic touches, and Alexia loses her filter completely.

Something about the proximity—about having Jenni's body weight on top of her as every thrust builds into a rhythm of pulsating need instead of the distance usually required for her hand or mouth to do the work—has Alexia's orgasm building quickly.

Jenni pants in the midfielder's ear as the madrileña snaps her hips forward cautiously, pulling a throaty groan out of the catalana.

Alexia's hands slide down to grasp the striker's ass as she widens her legs, opening herself up enough that the next thrust lands even deeper than those before it.

The madrileña groans as the motion has her bottoming out. The harness grazes her clit and now the pleasure radiating through Jenni's body is not just from the knowledge of what Alexia is allowing her to do or her girlfriend's noises but also from the fabric grinding against her own core.

Jenni grunts into the catalana's ear on the next thrust, each move forward now nudging her closer to the edge as well.

"Ohhh!" Alexia gasps as the striker hitches one of the midfielder's legs up and over her hip, encouraging the younger woman to wrap her leg around Jenni's back for more leverage. "Jenni, Jenni, please," she pants, the heat in her belly starts spreading through her veins as the strap hits a new depth.

The younger woman's hips circle frantically as she feels the tell-tale tightening of her core settling in. She has never gotten this close before without a hand or tongue working her clit, but she can feel her orgasm approaching like a freight train just from the motion of the striker's hips.

"Let go, Ale," Jenni whispers, lips falling to the catalana's shoulder in an open-mouthed pant as her thrusts pick up speed. The dark-haired woman is nearly at the edge too.

She very rarely comes this way, but tonight her desire is at an all-time high, largely fueled by the novelty of this being their first time with the strap and Alexia's unrestrained moans echoing in her ears. For once, Jenni isn't silencing them with her mouth or her hand. And hearing her girlfriend come undone under her has the striker a bit more vocal than normal too.

"Bebé, I'm gonna—Alex, shit, are you close?" Jenni groans, her hips stuttering as her clit starts its pulsing. She tries to push through, hips still rocking forward and back as she tries to hold off her orgasm long enough for Alexia to fall too.

At the increase in speed and the knowledge that her girlfriend is seconds away from orgasm, the catalana comes undone. Alexia sucks in a sharp breath, body tensing as her limbs start to shake with the force of the clenching from her core.

In contrast to her earlier volume, this fall is almost entirely silent in the descent.

Jenni moans as she feels Alexia hit her peak, quickly falling over the edge herself. Her hips thump down into her girlfriend as she rides out the remaining jolts of pleasure. One. Twice. Three times as she ends with a drawn out groan.

And that seems to restart the midfielder's voice. "Oh my god," Alexia whines as her thighs continue to shake, chest heaving at the absolute wreckage those few extra thrusts send her spiraling into. "Fuck!"

The madrileña slowly eases the strap out, fingers gentle as they coax the catalana back down to a less sensitive state.

Alexia buries her face in Jenni's neck, breath heaving. Her tongue flicks out to suck at the saltiness clinging to the striker's skin. They both have worked up quite the sweat with that performance.

"Hey!" Jenni teases, "No marks, cari."

"But you're mine and everyone should know it," the younger woman murmurs into the skin.

The striker chuckles. "Was it that good that I've made you extra possessive?" she teases.

The catalana pulls back, eyebrow arching. "You absolutely wrecked me. What do you think?"

Jenni pulls the younger woman back down into her arms. "And that was just the beginning," she goads lightly.

"The beginning?" Alexia questions in disbelief.

"It gets better," the madrileña replies, voice dropping a timbre. "Just wait until I put you on your knees."

Another whimper escapes Alexia as her mind conjures up that provocative visual. She has never given up control in this way before in her life. She expected she would like it somewhat if her response to having Jenni's fingers inside are anything to go by, but also expected she would have to grapple with the idea of willingly taking the strap, at least in the beginning.

But something about Jenni so delicately taking it out of her hands and calmly steering them through the transition completely erased any hesitance in the catalana. She can't say she would enjoy this with anyone else. In fact, Alexia is quite sure she would have a hard time loosening up enough to enjoy it (let alone reach orgasm) with anyone else.

Jenni, though, has already burrowed herself deep enough into the catalana's chest that she makes it feel so damn natural for Alexia to hand over her stressors, her worries, her need to be in a position of power and dictate the outcome. Because as the madrileña has shown time and time before—and especially tonight—Jenni is exceptionally skilled at getting Alexia to drop the weight without a fight and hand over the control she otherwise keeps in a tight grip.

Trusting the older woman to has been the best decision Alexia has ever made. For the first time in entirely too long, her mind is silent, her body is still, and her soul is at peace.

She could get used to more nights like this.

---------------------------

Monterrey, Mexico ✈️ Madrid, Spain — November 2025

Jenni stares in disbelief as the final whistle blows, tears gathering in her eyes. She falls to her knees on the grass.

They did it.

She did it.

Tigres have just won the Apertura title in front of thousands of fans in their home stadium. The noise is monstrous.

Her head is swimming.

All these years of struggle and growth and perseverance have led to this moment. It feels validating.

All those harsh criticisms from the media and fans alike carry no weight here and now.

She isn't washed. She isn't too old. Her football history doesn't have to end with the stain of Rubiales the last major highlight in her career.

Jenni has now won a championship title in three leagues across her time playing. It is a quiet accomplishment that might not be highlighted by the media but speaks to her dedication to this sport and advancing her game every step of the way.

It lands as one of her biggest accomplishments to date, outside of winning the World Cup.

In a league where winning is never guaranteed, in a country where she had to carve out a place for herself, in a time of her life when everything has been so emotionally fragile, Jenni persevered.

She has shown that she has a depth of strength she previously did not know existed. Julia has told her before, but these past few weeks the madrileña has started to believe it herself.

The hours after the whistle blows are a blur. Photos. Confetti. Trophy raises and a glittering medal she'll take back with her to Spain to gift to her mama.

Her flight back home leaves tomorrow around noon for an early morning arrival in Madrid on the 25th.

Jenni sighs. Just imagining stepping off that plane and seeing her mom, her family, all the sights that make her chest squeeze in the best way. She won't have much time, needing to report to National Team camp by that evening. But she will have at least some hours wrapped around her family, hearing her mama's laugh and catching up with her niece. And then after the Nations League final wraps up, she will be in Spain for almost the entire month of December.

That reminder loops in her head all throughout the victory photo shoots and team celebrations and fan appreciation events. She will be in Madrid soon. Very soon.

Her phone is still blowing up the following morning when she trudges out of bed half-awake long after the sun has risen and haphazardly packs her carry-on bag to accompany her larger suitcase in her trek back to her homeland.

The flight is long, and she is still close to running on empty after draining so much of herself in her pursuit of the championship title. As a result, Jenni sleeps most of the twelve-hour flight back to Spain.

It isn't the most rejuvenating sleep of her life, but she lands bright and early in Madrid at 7am without feeling like she is going to fall asleep on the spot.

Rafa is there at the Arrivals pick-up waiting for her.

"Take me to Mama," Jenni directs as she slides into his passenger seat.

Her brother pauses for a half-a-second too long, head turning slowly to look at his little sister.

"I know, Rafa," Jenni states quietly. "Take me to her now."

Sighing, he nods and heads towards the hospital. "It went well," he offers quietly. "She is recovering and trading recipes with the nurses."

The striker smiles at that. It sounds like her mama.

Still, she's not pleased at her family intentionally placing her in the dark. They should know better than anyone that football does not come before family. Not for Jenni. And the betrayal that neither of her siblings cracked to tell her the news is frankly hurtful.

Jenni's eyebrows raise as Rafa pulls into the lot for the private, expensive-looking hospital blocks away from their childhood home. The footballer was expecting the public hospital where she was taken when she broke her wrist when she was seven and where Rafa had to get stitches in his eyebrow when Jenni accidentally booted the ball into his face from mere feet away. Her left kick was lethal even as a gangly kid.

"Rafa?"

"Come on," her brother states, pulling into a spot and killing the engine. He doesn't even pause, climbing out of the car and heading for the entrance.

Jenni sighs but quickly follows, taking long strides to catch up.

The hospital is far calmer than Jenni expected. No nurses yelling, no people coughing in the waiting area, no chaos. She supposes you buy yourself calm when spending the money on private healthcare.

The madrileña frowns. She knows her mama doesn't have money for this, even if Jenni does send home a healthy amount of money each month much to her mother's protest.

The striker would never say no to paying. She tried to earlier, even, but her mama refused to even consider. Jenni wonders what changed.

By the time the two open up the door to room 149, Jenni thinks she has a small idea.

Alexia sits on a couch in front of the floor to ceiling windows, backlit by the early Madrid sunlight. Jenni's breath catches in her throat.

Rafa notices and goes to open his mouth to comment.

The striker's youngest sibling instincts take over, slug punching him in the bicep as she pushes past him into the room.

"Ouch," her brother whines from behind her.

The footballer just smirks in triumph.

"Jenni?" her mom asks in surprise, eyes flickering to her son and narrowing slightly.

Rafa holds his hands up defensively. "I didn't tell her! She already knew! Demanded I bring her here right from the airport."

Jenni frowns. "I can't believe you didn't tell me, Mama! What if I was having surgery and kept it from you?"

That makes Soledad pause. She hadn't considered the inverse. "I'm sorry, my girl," she murmurs. "I just didn't want it to impact your match. Or have you leaving before you accomplished your goal."

"Well I did know. And look, I still won the title," Jenni argues. "Have a bit more faith in me next time. I'm not here to make this visit about me. But you all should know how much it hurt to learn you intentionally kept me out of the loop and used my geography against me."

"I'm sorry, mi hija," her mother replies softly. "I thought it was best, but I can see now I should have let you know."

Jenni nods at the apology and leans down to kiss her mother. "You will always be more important to me than football," she murmurs. "So don't place the sport on this pedestal and call it my decision."

Soledad nods and pushes her daughter gently towards where Alexia stands, waiting for her own chance to greet the dark-haired madrileña.

"Hi," the catalana murmurs, running her palms down her sweats nervously.

Jenni doesn't respond verbally, hands firmly pulling the young woman's body into her own instead. Her nose buries in Alexia's neck, breathing in a scent that is so familiar her heart automatically slows a beat in response at the comfort she finds in it.

Alexia's arms wrap around her back, squeezing tightly as she kisses the crown of the striker's hair. "I have missed you," the midfielder whispers in Catalan.

Jenni's eyes water at that for some reason.

She's heard the language since she left Barcelona. In shows and interview clips and music. But something about hearing the lilt of the language in Alexia's voice brings a layer of emotion bubbling up that she can't quite name.

"Wait, who told you that Mama was having heart surgery?" Rafa asks, breaking the moment.

"Was it my sister?" her mother asks in a teasing tone. "She can never keep her mouth shut when she has gossip, especially if it's you asking."

Alexia bites her bottom lip.

Jenni snorts and turns to her family. "Imagine my surprise when my girlf—Ale," she corrects, ears tinging pink at her almost slip-up, "uh, when Ale called me and told me about the surgery date," the striker says dryly. They still haven't defined what they are more than daily 'I love yous' and a promise to talk once Jenni is back in Madrid. The striker doesn't want the first time she trots that title out to be here, before she can ask Alexia properly.

"Mama, I had just hung up a call with you. And Rafa, you and Silvia texted me later that day. Not a single peep from you about her going under the knife!"

"Technically it was minimally invasive," Rafa mutters defensively. "No knives were used."

Jenni rolls her eyes at her brother trying to use semantics to get out of his berating.

Soledad huffs out a laugh. "I should have known…"

"Jenni deserved to know," Alexia states. "She would not have wanted to be blindsided once she landed in Madrid. And I will always put what's best for her above anyone else," the catalana adds quietly.

The striker's hand reaches down to lace her fingers with the younger woman's, squeezing tightly in appreciation.

This one act has done unimaginable good in repairing her faith in them getting back together. Alexia was asked by a maternal figure, Jenni's own, to keep a secret. In the past, Jenni knows that ask would have overridden the catalana telling her. Alexia would have trusted the madrileña's own mother would know best and would have gone along with that choice without much thought.

But the Alexia of today only considered what Jenni needed before instantly defying her mother's order. Alexia did not place her mother's authority or her relationship with Soledad ahead of Jenni's heart or her peace.

It feels good to know she was prioritized.

It feels comforting to know Alexia did not hesitate on knowing what Jenni would choose for herself.

It feels like the catalana knows her inside out again, even if there is still plenty to re-learn about each other.

Alexia knows her heart. She knows exactly how Jenni ticks. And that is not something easily found when your name is known by millions but very few actually understand the person who exists behind that name.

---------------------------

Soledad gets released from the hospital around noon. The surgeon who operated on her mama visits the room personally to pass along the release instructions, his English accent pronounced, which has Jenni raising her eyebrows. She had expected a Spanish doctor, but she supposes money does bring top-tier service. And apparently that comes with foreign doctors, probably poached from successful careers in their home countries for the promise of more money serving elite clients.

This bill is about to be expensive, she can feel it. But she would pay all the money to her name to make sure her mama is around for years to come.

The surgeon steps to the side with Alexia, the two chatting as a nurse walks through the release instructions a second time to make sure everything is understood. Their conversation is clearly not medically related, otherwise the surgeon would be addressing her mama and the family. Which means it is personal talk.

Jenni's eyes keep shifting over to the two. She knows Alexia is royalty in Spain. All football fans, and even quite a few who are not fans, know her name and face. It is not surprising to learn the surgeon is one as well. But when she sees the surgeon write his personal number on the back of his card and hand it to Alexia with a smile, her stomach churns a little.

Alexia's smile is polite.

It is always polite in these situations. Years before it would have been a scrunched up nose and a look somewhere between confusion and indignation. The madrileña cannot help but smile and the memory of early Ale without any media filter. She was raw and rough around the edges when it came to schooling her face. Jenni loved it.

When the midfielder doesn't turn around and throw the card with the number on it in the trash as Jenni expected the second the man leaves the room as they both had done countless times in the past under similar situations, Jenni frowns.

Soledad catches the exchange and sighs deeply.

"Alexia? Rafa? Can you two go grab the cars? Jenni will accompany me downstairs."

Both nod and jump to respond, gathering the bags from Soledad's stay and heading out of the room.

Alexia stops to squeeze the striker's hand on her way out the door. An action that the madrileña reciprocates, even as her head replays the last few minutes.

"She arranged for the surgeon," Soledad states, leaning back into the pillow as the door closes softly behind Alexia.

"Who?" Jenni asks absentmindedly.

"Alexia."

"Alexia did what?" the striker asks, confused and only now clocking back into the conversation.

"Alexia flew in that surgeon from England, my doctor. It is why I had the surgery so quickly. Even this hospital with its private doctors was a month out for surgery."

The dots snap into focus. "Alexia found you a surgeon from England to bypass the wait?"

Her mama nods. "And covered it all."

"Financially, you mean?" Jenni asks, distressed. "She shouldn't have done that. I'll pay!"

"I saw you watching their exchange," Soledad states, seemingly changing direction in the conversation.

"He gave her his cell phone number," Jenni replies, frown back in place. "I don't like it."

"He knew of her beforehand," the older madrileña says with a sigh. "The payment isn't money—"

"I will pay," Jenni cuts in, fist clenching. "Whatever she planned otherwise, I would rather pay."

"I know, cariño," her mother soothes. "But Alexia already agreed to an arrangement with him."

Jenni swallows down the bile in her throat. "What arrangement?" she asks in a whisper.

"Sorry, my girl, I didn't mean it like that. We both know Alexia would empty her pockets before anything stole her soul in that fashion. He has a daughter who loves the sport, and apparently is a huge fan. She exchanged an in-person meet and greet with the girl and few of her little friends as well as tickets to the Nations League final match."

Jenni blows out a breath, relief loosening the tightness in her chest. "Still. She shouldn't have had to do that. I will pay."

"She didn't want you to pay," Soledad replies softly. "She did this out of love. For you. For me. For the girl she was who lost an important figure in her life to heart issues. You know I'm the first to resist help—"

Jenni snorts at the understatement.

"She loves this family. And although it pains me that her time was used to barter this way, she chose it. I know you would have paid. She knows it too. And she could have just paid herself. Sometimes we need to step back and accept love the way a person is trying to show it."

The madrileña blows out a breath, tears catching at the corners of her eyes. "I was so scared, and she and I talked about that every day. About how the wait for you to get the surgery you clearly needed weighed so heavy on me, like a ticking time bomb I couldn't diffuse. And she listened and comforted me but also solved the problem so it didn't need to take up so much of my world anymore."

"And she disobeyed my direction to not tell you all about the surgery because she knew you even better than me. I thought it would be a distraction. She knew it would be motivation. I am sorry I underestimated how well you would balance the news with your obligation to your teammates and the club. You are an ultimate professional. You always have been."

"It's okay Mama. I understand your reasoning, even if I don't agree with it. But, you are right. Alexia knew exactly what I needed," Jenni states softly.

That warmth from earlier blooms further across her chest at the confirmation that someone else has noticed how much work Alexia has put into rediscovering what Jenni needs so that the catalana can show up for the madrileña in all the ways that she needs now.

As the nurse pushes the wheelchair holding Soledad out the front entrance, Jenni's eyes hone in on where Alexia leans against the passenger door of her rented car, face turned up to the sun.

"Mama," Rafa calls, gesturing to his opened passenger door.

Alexia straightens up at the sound. Only then does Jenni realize she is dressed in sweats marked with the Spanish crest.

National Team camp.

Right, Alexia arrived yesterday for camp.

How is she here now?

Did she get approval to be absent for the team training to sit with Jenni's mama this morning?

Jenni and Esther were the remaing players to arrive, delayed due to their long distance flights requiring more time.

The striker walks over to make sure her mama is situated. Rafa nods at her and jogs around to the other side of her vehicle, sliding in and starting up the vehicle.

While they pull off, Jenni watches, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun that is now high in the sky.

After a second, the madrileña turns and heads over to the catalana who is quietly watching her. Jenni's hands land on hips she spent years tracing but that her fingers haven't touched in ages. They curl comfortably around warm skin, pulling her body into Alexia's.

"I have missed you," the striker murmurs warmly. "How long do you have before you have to be back at camp? I'm due to check in around 4. "

Alexia sighs, running a hand across her jaw. "I have time if you want to grab lunch. My physio appointment is at 3:30."

"Physio?" Jenni asks in confusion. "Are you hurt?"

"Just load management, really," the midfielder reassures. "A little bit of a quad pull that I'm managing."

"You didn't say anything," the madrileña frowns.

"You have had a lot on your plate," Alexia murmurs. "It isn't serious."

"No," Jenni states firmly, "we tell each other all of it."

"Okay," the young woman relents easily.

"Anything else you've been keeping from me?"

"I've been dying to kiss you since you entered the hospital room."

Jenni laughs brightly. She was not expecting the silly side of the catalana to make an appearance so quickly.

Alexia smirks at pulling laughter from the madrileña.

"Well," the striker whispers, "maybe we should rectify that before we head to camp, hmm?"

"What do you have in mind?" the younger woman murmurs, eyes dropping to Jenni's lips.

"Pick up a quick lunch from that food truck not far from here and take it back to eat on the roof at Mama's?"

"Perfect. Get in, bebé," Alexia replies with a tap to the madrileña's hip as she steps back to open the passenger door.

Jenni smirks but slides in as instructed.

The catalana closes the door before strolling over to her side of the vehicle and piloting them to their first destination—the neighborhood food truck that has been basically a monument in Madrid for all the years the younger woman has been visiting the third best city in Spain (behind Mollet del Vallès and Barcelona of course).

The food is made quickly as always and before long the rental car gets parked half a block down from Jenni's childhood home. They bypass the familiar door of Soledad's to continue a climb up the stairs, headed for the roof of the apartment building.

There was not much up there the last time the two of them visited, but Alexia is surprised at the couch that has been added to the space along with a rather sturdy-looking shaded addition attached to the stairwell, a necessary protection from the hot Madrid sun. It isn't much compared to the accommodations they both have experienced after the boom of their careers. But it is quiet and peaceful, words not always easily found in such a bustling city like Madrid.

Lunch gets eaten quickly, both starving after their occupied mornings and a whole night flight of travel in Jenni's case.

Comfortable silence falls as the striker clears the table of their trash, stuffing it all back in the bag it came in.

Jenni leans back against the couch, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes to listen to the sounds of her city.

Alexia's hand lands softly on her thigh, squeezing three times affectionately but leaving the striker to her moment.

"Thank you," Jenni whispers, eyes opening and landing on Alexia's amber irises. "I love how much you love my mama. She told me you arranged the surgery, and what it is costing you. I can pay, Ale. You shouldn't have to sell yourself or your time for me or my family—"

"Jenni, I love you. I love her. Your family became a part of mine a long time ago. I just did what I would do for Alba or my mama. What you would do for them in my place."

The striker nods. She would do anything for Alexia's mother or sister; that is true.

"Even if we hadn't restarted this, I would have done anything to get your mama the best care. You know that, right?"

Jenni does. She nods, tattooed fingers reaching out to gently grab the midfielder's wrist and raising it to her mouth, palm up. She leaves a gentle kiss in the center, eyes still locked with the catalana's.

"I love you," the madrileña states thickly. "I see how well you've loved me, especially in these past few weeks of hell. And I'm so thankful for you."

Alexia swallows. "I know there is still much that will only be proven over time to ease the reservations you have," she admits, "but I'm here for the long-haul, Jenni. We took a detour, I know. But being yours for the rest of my life is still the biggest goal of mine."

"You are," the striker whispers. "You are mine, Ale."

Words don't feel like enough to hammer home that point.

This situation has been so much easier to navigate due to Alexia's presence in her life. The midfielder has been her emotional sounding board, never once turning off like she might have in the past when a situation swung too close to her own buried emotions or fears. And because Alexia quietly orchestrating this all in the background is how Soledad's heart condition resolved with a relatively quick and easy surgery she otherwise would have been waiting most of next year to receive.

The realization hits her hard, sitting here on the roof couch as she stares at Alexia.

Her fear of them being together has dissolved. The connection she has with the midfielder has saved her this month. Alexia's love has kept her held together when she otherwise would have cracked into pieces under the weight of all her stress.

When Jenni was scared she might wake up to a call that her mama had a heart attack and passed away while stuck in Mexico, Alexia comforted her through the tears. She let her exist in those emotions and then calmed the striker down with quiet words and reassurances and logic when Jenni asked for it.

When the striker was angry at her mother refusing her financial assistance to shorten the wait time for surgery, Alexia listened and somehow got Soledad to agree without that burden ever landing on Jenni.

The madrileña has been so scared that getting back together would lull her into the past version of herself, someone whose emotional level balanced off to the mood of her partner which left the madrileña chasing highs that didn't belong to her own self happiness. Jenni was scared the version of herself she's built in Mexico would disappear under the weight of Alexia's name and the midfielder putting herself and her career first as happened during their end.

But Alexia has not let that be the case at all.

She has dropped everything, from club to country obligations, to be at Soledad's side and help Jenni navigate through the chaos when she was over 5,000 miles and an ocean away.

Alexia has kept her steady emotionally. She hasn't littered their conversations with platitudes or attempts to shift the focus away from the hard emotions, the hurt and anger and sadness. No, the catalana has stayed. She has stayed present and caring and invested in what Jenni needs most in the moment.

Alexia has been quietly showing her through one of the worst times in her life in recent years (and that is saying something) how her love has changed and evolved.

It is no longer a love of the bright-eyed and naive optimism belonging to youth.

This is a love that has been put through the trenches. A love that is battle scarred. Instead of retreating, instead of giving up when things looked stacked against her, Alexia dug deeper. She shoveled down to the root of the issues affecting her and went to work cutting out the rot. For herself, but Jenni gets to reap those benefits too now.

What is left is the woman Jenni fell in love with, loving her the way the dark-haired woman needs.

The time they were broken up was painful.

Jenni lived through hell and back. And she is still standing to tell the tale.

Alexia broke. But she found a way to use the wreckage to rebuild an even better version of herself.

Their story and the weaving road it has taken has brought them to here, right now, knees touching and Alexia's soft fingers tracing Jenni's jaw reverently.

"I fell in love with you before we ever kissed," the catalana admits softly. "My soul found a peace with you that I have never found with anyone else. I know my Papa would have loved you. Maybe even more than he loved me," Alexia states with a crooked grin.

"Impossible," Jenni whispers.

"I love you," Alexia replies, words honest and raw. "I buried it. For a time. But that has always been a truth in my life. I will spend my next fifty-some years learning everyday how to love you that much better. Because I've realized this year that love isn't just the grand moments. It is the quiet acknowledgements. It is the showing up, especially on the hard days. It is comfort and care and 'what can I do to make your life better' every day I get to wake up with my heart belonging to you. Is it being attuned to your words but also the way your body leans to the left ever so slightly when you're feeling overwhelmed, as if it's unconsciously looking for the exit—"

The younger woman's speech is cut off when Jenni pushes forward into her chest, lips landing soft but firm and sure on Alexia's as the last of her thoughts bleed out into a moan instead.

The midfielder's hands reach up to frame Jenni's face, body melting as the striker pulls her closer.

This kiss eventually ends, both separating to gasp for air, eyes wide and wild with arousal.

"Ale," Jenni groans, burying her head in the catalana's neck as her hands drop to flex on the younger woman's hips before Jenni spontaneously lifts her thighs, slotting the shrieking midfielder to rest on her lap.

Alexia sighs happily, arms wrapping around the older woman's shoulders as they cuddle on the threadbare couch on the roof, tucked away from the rest of the world.

"How am I meant to go to camp and be around you 24/7 and not touch you?" the striker mumbles petulantly.

"Maybe we give ourselves a bit more distance this camp? Because I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself from kissing you, cameras and fans and teammates be damned."

Jenni chuckles. "We probably should," she agrees. "I know we have a lot coming up with camp and the matches, but we end up back here in Madrid at the end, right?"

The younger woman nods.

"I'm getting us a hotel, for the night of the final, whether we win or lose I want to celebrate" the madrileña states decisively. "Because I have missed you, Ale. Not just this, the talking, the closeness, the bonding. But…" she trails off, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she lets the thought linger in the air.

Alexia knows exactly what she means. "Make the reservation for a few days," she husks, eyes dark with want. "What I want to do to you won't fit into just one night. And we're winning that title," the catalana states firmly.

Jenni smirks, excited for the challenges to come—both the football and the personal.

They both have changed over their four years apart. Jenni has already noted the growth in herself and Alexia when it comes to their communication and emotional regulation. But based on the way her girl is staring her down, determined and confident and hungry, it seems like maybe there is some other growth in store for the madrileña to discover.

And she cannot wait.